


*record scratches*

by suffocatingrelief



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Agender Castiel (Supernatural), BAMF Dean Winchester, Bookstore Owner Castiel, Castiel in a Skirt, Comedy, Crossdressing Castiel, Graphic Scenes Of Violence, Humor, Lawyer Lucifer, Lawyer Michael, M/M, Married Sam/Gabriel, One Shot, Tumblr Prompt, detective gabriel, hitman dean, this fic is a MESS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 16:42:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10495155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suffocatingrelief/pseuds/suffocatingrelief
Summary: *record scratches* Yes, some might wonder how I got in this situation: me, here, with a broken nose, a few missing teeth, lipstick all over my neck, and ten cocked guns pointed at my head, but let me tell you, it’s actually a funny story.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is an absolute mess and none of it really makes sense but I was in the mood to write something non-serious.

 

     *record scratches* Yes, some might wonder how I got in this situation: me, here, with a broken nose, a few missing teeth, lipstick all over my neck, and ten cocked guns pointed at my head, but let me tell you, it’s actually a funny story.

* * *

* * *

5 Hours Earlier

  
     Dean Winchester likes his life - no, he loves his life. He’s got a nice house in Buffalo, a nicer car, and a smoking hot, freaky smart boyfriend with an affinity for skirts and lipstick. Yeah, his life was pretty great. In fact, he currently had a nice view of said boyfriend, the lovely Castiel Novak, pulling on a leather miniskirt to match the flannel he stole from Dean.  
 

     “Dean, I know my ass looks great but staring is rude.” Cas huffed out as he turned around to face Dean, who was leaning against the headboard of their bed.  
 

     “I know, Cas, but damn! You can’t do that little wiggle thing to get your skirt on and expect me not to stare. That’s just unrealistic.” Dean gave Cas a sly smirk before throwing the covers off of himself and slinking out of bed, sauntering towards Cas with a mischievous look on his face. “Besides, it’s a nice vision to get me through the work day.”  
 

     “Speaking of, you have approximately 20 minutes to get ready and leave for work, unless you want to be late. Again.” Cas stated before swatting Dean on the arm, trying very hardly to not let himself get worked up over the admittedly nice view of his, yep, super naked boyfriend.  
 

     “Thanks, Mom.” Dean gave Cas ‘Bitchface #23’ – the one that says ‘I’m a grown man, give me a break.’ He made his way over the bathroom and stomped inside, slamming the door behind him.  
 

     “Don’t be a baby, Dean! It’s not my fault you are perpetually late everywhere!” Cas yelled as he tugged his trench coat on and grabbed his keys. “Oh, by the way, Kevin has to leave early today so I have to stay late and close. I should be home in time to go with you to karaoke.” He takes the affirmative grunt from inside the bathroom as a good enough response and throws an absentminded “Love you!” over his shoulder as he leaves.  
 

     Inside the bathroom, Dean was in the middle of trying to hype himself up for work as he shrugged on his clothes. First, his black pants, then his black hoodie, then his black gloves, then his sunglasses -wait, what? Oh yeah, Dean’s a hitman, has been for going on seven years. Now that he was 32, he was practically an expert, untraceable and neat. Every work day is the same. He gets dressed, checks the address from ‘dispatch’, grabs his duffle/arsenal, and heads out, sending a quick prayer that he makes it back home to the one he loves. However, this assignment is big. And risky. And Dean knows that. He regrets not kissing Cas before he left and not returning his ‘love you’ but he needs to get himself in the right mindset. Killing someone for money takes a little more mental preparation than some might think.  
 

     Just as he was on his way out of the house, his phone rang and the Caller ID said ‘Bitch’, that was Sam, Dean’s little brother. Dean pressed the green button on his screen and lifted the phone to his hear.  
 

     “Yeah?”  
 

     “Wow, nice to talk to you as well, Dean. I was just calling to make sure we’re still on for tonight.”  
 

     “Uh…”  
 

     “Dean, don’t you dare back out. Gabe has been talking about this for days. He’s excited to hang out. Don’t ruin this for him, please. I’ll never hear the end of it.” Dean can hear a muffled denial in the background noise, most likely Gabe, Sam’s pint-sized husband.  
 

     “Fine…but I’m not singing…and my beers are on you.”  
 

     “Done. See you there. Later, jerk.”  
 

     “Bye, bitch.”  
 

     That was another thing Dean liked about his life. He had a little brother he would do anything for and he finally got to see Sam get his apple pie happy ending. Dean practically raised him and now he gets to see him start a family of his own. But that’s enough of that talk. No chick flick moments. Right now, Dean’s got bigger fish to fry. Today, it’s a fish by the name of Lucifer Morningstar. The smarmy bastard is co-founder of Morningstar & Saint, Attorneys at Law. And it just so happens that this particular hit was put out by none other than Michael Saint himself, the petty dick. Not that this is any of Dean’s business to divulge but practically everyone knew the story between them anyway so it isn’t a big deal so why not spill it anyway.  
 

     So, the story goes like this. Lucifer and Michael started this law firm together when they graduated from Harvard Law. Back then, it was Morningstar & Morningstar – oh, yeah, those ass hats were married, like legally married. Anyways, it was all burritos and strippers until they got a nasty divorce. Why did they get divorced? No one actually knows. They decided to keep the firm but Michael insisted on changing his surname back to his maiden name and Lucifer reluctantly agreed. The men constantly argue. They’re like toddlers in Armani suits, constantly disagreeing about which cases to take and expansion possibilities and other boring legal stuff. But, back on subject, they hate each other. Like, mortal enemies/opposite sides of the Apocalypse _hate_ each other. So, Michael decided to pay an upper, middle class man, Dean, to kill his ex-husband. It’s probably easier to run a company the way you want if there’s no one there to stop you.  
 

     So, here Dean is, on his way to put a piece of lead in the head of one of the most powerful men on the Eastern seaboard, all while his boyfriend thought he was fixing cars at some auto shop at the edge of town. Meanwhile, as Dean was driving to his mark, Cas was opening up the quaint bookstore he owned in town, Of Wings and Writing.  
 

     “Good morning, Kevin. How is your mother?” Cas asked his employee as he counted the money in the cash register.  
 

     “Morning, Cas. She’s doing good. Still hounding me about school, as always.” Kevin was an interesting character. He was currently attending University at Buffalo while working part-time at Cas’ shop. He was really a sweet kid, and super smart, too. Hell, he was practically family to Cas and Dean. It didn’t hurt that he was obsessed with books and was one hell of a worker. “How about you? How’s Dean?”  
 

     “I am well and Dean, well, he’s Dean, as always. That man never ceases to amaze me. I swear he gets more stubborn every day. I’m not even sure it’s humanly possible.”  
 

     “Maybe he’s a demon or something?” Both men let out a bark of laughter at that.  
 

     “Perhaps he is. Hmm. Demon Dean? No, wait! Deanmon!” Castiel practically howled with laughter as he proposed Dean’s new name and Kevin started laughing soon after and began to mockingly and dramatically narrate.  
 

     “Hurry, Castiel, constipated Angel of the Lord! You’re Dean’s only hope. You must save him! Grip him tight and raise him from perdition. Thus spoke the Lord.” Kevin faked a swoon and tried to hold his laughter in. Meanwhile, Cas was on the floor, clutching his stomach as tears rolled down his cheek.  
 

     “I…should have…never told you…about the…angel thing.” Cas was trying hard to catch his breath as he picked himself up off of the floor. “All jokes aside, Dean’s doing great. He’s such a good man, a truly righteous man.”  
 

     “Yeah, yeah. Your skirts all ruffled in the back.” Kevin said as a small blush crept across his cheeks.  
 

     “Oh, thank you.” Castiel adjusted his skirt and went about his daily duties.  
 

     “I believe you. I see it in him too, Cas. He’s a great guy.”  
 

     On the other side of the city, Dean was squatting in the window of an abandoned business building, assembling his sniper rifle and whistling an Elvis song that Cas sings in the shower. Lucifer will be in his top-floor office in 20 minutes; his desk chair is a clear shot through the window. It’s a quick, wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am kill and Dean was grateful. For once, he didn’t have to deal with moving cars or security systems. After he set up his stand and aimed his gun, Dean saw Lucifer come into his office and sit in his chair but – oh, damn. Lucifer was not alone. He was in his chair but he had a man, whose face Dean couldn’t make out, straddling his lap and kissing him like it was the cure for cancer. Okay, that makes things a little messier but regardless, he’s getting paid to take that dick out and he’s going to do it. As Dean pulls the trigger, the chair rolls across the floor and out of the shot and this new position gives Dean a better view, one that definitely changes things because holy shit, that’s Michael Saint. Michael Saint is desperately undressing his ex-husband, the man he put a hit out on. Michael knew that the hit was going down right now so why the hell was he trying to get laid? But there was no laying because the second Dean’s bullet hit the wall beside the men in the office, Michael pulled out a pair of binoculars from God-knows-where and looked out the window, right at Dean.  
 

     That made things bad, really bad. Dean’s clients didn’t know what he looked like or even his name. This line of work required total anonymity, to protect him and his family. But now, Michael saw him. Wait a second? Was this a set-up to figure out who Dean was? Shit. The dude’s a lawyer. He could know everything about Dean within an hour. Within one-tenth of a second, Dean began to go over his mental plan of what to do if someone spotted him. First, secure Cas. Dean scrambled out of the building and ran to his car, which he parked down the street to avoid suspicion. He broke nearly every traffic law on his way to Cas’ bookstore. During his drive, Dean’s mind was bombarded with gruesome mental images of the things his enemies could possibly do to Cas to torture Dean and the thoughts made him want to throw up in his mouth. Actually, he did once.  
 

     When Dean got to the bookstore, he burst through the door and instantly spotted Cas behind the counter, typing something super business-y on his computer. In his efforts to not waste anytime, Dean leaned over the counter, grabbed Cas by the lapels of his coat and drug him over to the other side then lead him to the front door, ignoring his demands to know exactly what in the hell Dean’s problem was. As the men made their way to the front of the building, Dean threw a spare store key at Kevin.  
 

     “Call Balthazar and tell him he needs to come in and close the shop!” When the two finally got outside, Cas pulled himself from Dean’s grasp and smacked him in the face.  
 

     “What the hell is wrong with you, Dean? Are you trying to kidnap me or something?”  
 

     “Listen, Cas, I don’t have time to explain this to you but I need to get you to the bunker as fast as possible. You need to trust me.” Dean tried to grab Cas’ hand but Cas pulled away before he could.  
 

     “What are you talking about? What’s going on?”  
 

     “Cas, please. Just get in the car. I’ll explain on the way.” Cas allowed Dean to lead him to the car and the two of them set off in the direction of the bunker, which just happened to be the longest damn car ride ever with Cas in the car. Two hours into the trip, Cas demands that Dean pull over and buy him some Gatorade and a new tube of red lipstick, since Cas was forced to leave his at the shop when he was so rudely “escorted”. Dean eventually gave in and that’s where it all went to shit, well, it was already shit, but still. While Dean was taking forever in Kmart, Cas decided to rummage through the car in search of some gum. He unzipped the duffle bag that had been between him and Dean throughout the ride and -holy fuck! That’s a lot of guns. Those are real guns. Cas’ boyfriend has a duffle full of real, big guns. What in the actual hell is going on? Cas hurriedly zips the bag back up when he sees Dean walking out of the store and decided not to mention it.  
 

     Once the pair are back on the road, Cas carefully applies his new, cherry red lipstick and pulls out his phone to text Sam.

 

 

     _Cas: Is there any reason why Dean would have a duffle bag full of guns in his car?_

_Sam: Um? What are you talking about?_

_Cas: I’m talking about guns, Sam! You know? Real, authentic rooty-tooty point-n-shootys. Dean showed up at the shop a little over two hours ago, all frantic and weird, and is now dragging me all the way out the bunker and oh yeah HE’S GOT A WHOLE FUCKING ARSENAL IN THE FRONT SEAT THAT HE HAS NEGLECTED TO MENTION TO ME!!! THERE’S AN ASSEMBLED SNIPER RIFLE FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!!!_

 

_Sam: Okay, Cas. Just…idk calm down. Give me a minute to think._

 

 

     “Hey, Gabe?” Sam called out to his husband who was at the kitchen table working on a case. He had been working this hitman case for a year now and still had no leads. All he knew was that he was in the city and botched a hit almost three hours ago.  
 

     “Yes, Samsquatch?”  
 

     “So get this, Cas said that Dean showed up out of nowhere like two hours ago, acting all crazy, and now he’s dragging him to the bunker. He said he found a bag full of guns and an assembled sniper rifle. I have no clue why he would have that stuff. I’ve never seen the guy shoot a gun in his life.” Sam showed Gabe the texts from Cas as he sat down across from him. And, just then, Gabe had a revelation.  
 

     “Two hours ago? Interesting.”  
 

     Gabe wanted to jump up and scream. It all made sense. The black muscle car seen near every scene, the fact that no one at the garage had ever heard of Dean, the “Ken Doll” every witness says they could have sworn they saw sneaking through alleyways, and now…holy shit, he has Cas.  
     

     “Sam, we need to get to your brother. Now. Where’s the bunker?” Gabe got up from the table and pulled out his phone to call the station.  
 

     “What are you talking about Gabe? What’s wrong?”  
 

     “It’s Dean.” Gabe gestured to the case files on the table. “All of this is Dean! It all makes sense. And now, he has Cas and has practically kidnapped him. Any of this shivving your jimmies, Sambo? Tell me where the bunker is, now.”  
 

     “You’re out of your fucking grapefruit, Gabe. Dean isn’t a hitman. He’s a mechanic.”

 

     “No he’s not, Sam! No one at that garage has ever heard of Dean in their entire lives! Now, tell me where the bunker is. Cas is my friend, too, and now he’s on a psychotic road trip with a god damn merc!” Gabe’s face was scarlet with anger and he didn’t have time to explain the entire rundown of this huge ass mess to Sam. Sensing his husband’s patience wearing thin, Sam wrote down the coordinates to the bunker on a scrap piece of paper.  
 

     “Here. Just…he’s my brother, Gabe. If you have to arrest him, you take him alive, or I will never forgive you.”  
 

     “I’ll try as hard as I can, Samalam. Now, I need to call this in.” Gabe left the room to call his partner and get eyes and ears on Dean and Cas.  
 

     Meanwhile, two and a half hours away, Dean and Cas found themselves at the bunker. The bunker was a nearly impenetrable safe house that Dean’s grandfather built in his much younger days and left to him and Sam. After grabbing a few bags from the truck of the Impala, Dean ushered Cas into the building and as soon as he shut the door behind them, Cas whipped around and punched Dean square in the jaw.  
 

     “What in holy flying fuck, Dean?”  
 

     “Why’d you punch me, babe?”  
 

     “Don’t call me ‘babe’ right now. You have a shit ton of explaining to do and you better start right this fucking second, Dean Winchester. Don’t try lying to me either. I saw the military-grade arsenal in your fucking duffle.”  
 

     “Okay, I’ll explain can we please just sit down. And can you not punch me again?”  
 

     “Can’t make any promises.” The two men went down the staircase and sat at the map table in the middle of the room.  
 

     “What I’m about to tell you is going to sound crazy but I need you to trust me. Please trust me when I say that I would never hurt you.”  
 

     “I don’t want to trust you, right now, but I do.”  
 

     “Okay, here’s the thing. I’m a-“ In the middle of Dean’s sentence, three men in black suits and sunglasses burst into the bunker. Dean recognized them as Morningstar’s henchman, per the signature gold tie each of them was wearing.  
 

     “Cas, run!” Dean yelled at his boyfriend before turning to face the men who were probably sent to blow his ass away. The second Cas was out of the room, Dean lunged at the biggest of the three men, sending both of them flying into the control board against the wall. Dean took advantage of the bigger guy being disoriented to pull his handgun out of the back waistband of his pants and blowing a shot through the underside of the man’s chin. As soon as the body dropped, Dean was yanked back by one of the other men while the other landed a punch on Dean’s nose, no doubt breaking it. Another three punches landed on Dean’s mouth, knocking out a few if his teeth. Struggling to see through the tears forming from the shock of having his nose broken, Dean managed to land a kick square in the center of the man’s chest, sending him flying backwards, landing on the table. He then brought his arm back and elbowed the man holding him in temple, knocking him out instantly. Dean ran over to where his gun dropped to the floor and picked it up. He then put a bullet through the heads of both men. As he wiped at the blood running down his mouth and chin, Dean heard a small squeak from the doorway and turned around to see Cas standing there, shaking in his stockings.  
 

     “Cas-“ Dean held his hands up in a gesture of surrender before he was knocked back by the force of Cas tackling him. The two men landed on the floor, Cas on top of Dean, who was laying on his back trying to figure out why the hell Cas was kissing him so feverishly. When he finally managed to pry Cas off his lips, he was panting. “Cas, that hurts. Cas, my nose and teeth! What the hell?”  
 

     “That was so hot.” Cas said as he messily kissed Dean’s neck, no doubt smearing lipstick all over him.  
 

     “Are you kidding? You freaked out over some guns but you wanna jump my bones after I murdered three men in front of you.”

     Cas sat up, straddling Dean’s hips and stared into his boyfriend’s eyes. “They would have hurt me, Dean. You were protecting me. That’s hot. Besides, the badass look is pretty hot.” Cas went back to marking up Dean’s neck while sliding his hands underneath Dean’s hoodie. Dean slid his hands up Cas’ skirt and gripped his thighs and he tried and processed the fact that knight-in-shining-armor murder turned his boyfriend on.  
 

     “Come on, Cas. I’m bleeding and my face is starting to swell. Can’t I have a little bit to recover or something?”  
 

     “Absolutely not.” Cas stood up and yanked Dean up with him, pulling him to the hallway to find a bed. Before they could get into the room, Dean heard more people burst through the door but this time was about ten times worse.  
 

     “Police! Everyone on the ground, hands on your head!” As the police came down the stairs, they spotted Dean and Cas in the doorway. An officer came forward and pulled Cas away from Dean, despite the protests from the dark-haired man with the smudged lipstick. Before he knew it, Dean was standing on the barrel end of ten cocked guns. He quickly put his hands up in surrender and got on his knees, making sure they knew he wasn’t resisting arrest. At that moment, Gabe sauntered over and stood in front of Dean, a cherry lollipop in hand and a shit-eating grin on his face.  
 

     And _this_ is how Dean got in this situation: him, there, with a broken nose, a few missing teeth, lipstick all over his neck, and ten cocked guns pointed at his head. Now, the story could end there but that would be rude, for one thing. So we’ll keep going.  
 

     “Well, well, Dean-o. This isn’t as fun as karaoke night but it sure is nice to see. You’re under arrest for a whole ton of things and you have some rights. Got it? Good. Cuff him, boys.”  
 

     “Gabe, wait. I can explain.” Dean said as he was cuffed and forced up from the ground.  
 

     “Don’t worry, kiddo. There’ll be plenty of time for explaining.” Gabe said with a smirk as Dean was escorted out of the bunker and into a cop car.  
 

     When they were finally at the police station, Dean found himself handcuffed to a metal table in the middle of an interrogation room. He hasn’t seen or heard from Cas or his brother. Hell, he hasn’t seen or heard from anyone in this damn place. So, he sat and picked at his nails, waiting for a chance to try and explain his side, hoping for a lesser sentence. Because, to be honest, he really didn’t want to spend his life in prison. He’d lose everything: Cas, his house, his brother. Dean couldn’t live without those things. As he thought over this, the door to the room swung open and Gabe came in, practically skipping.  
 

     “Damn, Dean Bean. Who’da thunk it? Mr. Picket Fence is a stone cold killer for hire. It’s almost funny.” Gabe took a seat across the table from Dean and pulled out a case file.  
 

     “Gabe-“  
 

     “Can it, dick. In here, you’re not my brother-in-law; you’re a criminal. So, shut up. Now, your last target…who was it? And don’t try to lie because I know your tells, Dean. We play poker together.” Dean fidgeted with his fingers while he contemplated his answer. He knows the police know that he killed Morningstar’s men and there is seemingly no other explanation for them showing up. He decided to just tell the truth and try to weasel his way into a plea deal.  
 

     “Lucifer Morningstar. I was supposed to take him out this morning.” Gabe almost looked a little shocked at that. Okay, so maybe they didn’t already have their suspicions.  
 

     “Who hired you?” Shit, if Dean’s going down for this, he’s taking everyone with him.  
 

     “Michael Saint.” Now, Gabe looked downright confused as hell.  
 

     “Mikie? As in Luci’s ex-husband?”  
 

     “Mikie? Luci? What the hell are you talking about, Gabe?”  
 

     “Lucifer is my adopted brother, Dean. You were hired to kill my fucking brother.” Gabe lunged over the table and punched Dean in the jaw.  
 

     “What the fuck, Gabe? You never said anything about that. By the way, I still got a broken nose and missing teeth so if you could calm down on the fucking assault, at least to my face, that would be fantastic.”  
 

     “Shut it, dick wad. Well, Luci’s still alive so you didn’t kill him. And you ran with Cas, so something obviously happened. Tell me.”  
     

     “Well, Michael and I set up an exact time and location for the hit to go down. I was supposed to shoot through Lucifer’s office window from across the street. But, when I go to take my shot, Michael’s straddling Morningstar in his office chair. I didn’t see that it was Michael until after I pulled the trigger but at the last second, they moved the chair, so the shot missed. And then, Saint pulls out binoculars and looks at me through the window. No clients know what I look like. I think it was a set-up. Then, three of Morningstar’s men show up at the bunker trying to kill me.”  
 

     “Hold on one hot damn second. So, Mike hired you to kill Luc, then botched the kill himself just to figure out who you were, then tried to have you killed. ‘Cause those men were on Mike’s payroll, not Luc’s.” Dean nodded to confirm what Gabe was saying. “But wait, why was Mikie sucking his face? They’re divorced and they fucking loathe each other.” Just as Gabe finished talking, another police officer burst into the room.  
 

     “Winchester, the Morningstar & Saint building is in flames and Michael and Lucifer are off the grid.” At that information, both Gabe and Dean look at each other and mutter the same word.  
 

     “Shit.”  
 

     “Listen, Dean. You’re an inside man at this point. If you help me get to the bottom of whatever this is, I can keep you out of a life sentence in prison, just because I got soft spot for you and I’ll only ever get you to confess to this one attempted murder. Got it?”  
 

     “Got it. But first, I want to see Cas and then I want him taken some place safe.”  
 

     “Can do.” Gabe turned around to the other officer and instructed him to bring Cas to the interrogation room. When Cas got there, Gabe left and shut the door behind him to give them some privacy. Once the door was shut, Cas pulled out a lock-pick kit and started unlocking Dean’s cuffs.  
 

     “What the hell, Cas?”  
 

     “We need to get out of here, Dean. Mikie is waiting for us with a one way trip to Costa Rica.”  
 

     “Um, excuse me? How do you know Michael?”  
 

     “Michael’s my brother, Dean. Why do you think I don’t talk about my family, especially around Gabe. Him and Luci were in deep shit with the firm and needed a way out but they had to make it look like it wasn't an inside job. I've known that you aren't a mechanic so in turn for not ratting them out to Gabe, they agreed to take me and you and make all this disappear.”

 

     “Why is everyone fucking related around here?” Cas got the cuffs undone and made sure the hall was clear before making his way to a window at the end of the hall. He opened the window and climbed out, prompting Dean to follow him. Dean climbed out of the window and got in the black, unmarked car that was idling by the sidewalk. Once inside, Dean pulled Cas onto his lap so the smaller man was straddling him and grabbed his hips from underneath his skirt.

    

     “When did you become such a bad ass, Cas?”

 

     “Hush, Dean. There will be plenty of time for talking when we’re lounged out, naked and drunk, on a sunny beach, far, far away.”

 

     “I like the sound of that.”


End file.
